Her Christmas Pleasure (The Merry Widows 2) - Page 18

Her skin tingled at his words, and her core tightened with need. Never before had she spent twice in one night, but the way Damien moved within her, she knew she would again.

Soon.

He moved faster, his thrusts more forceful. She encouraged him with whispered passionate words and furtive touches on his body. She wanted this, relished in it. The way he made love to her with thinly held restraint and the wildness simmering just beneath the surface. She wanted him unleashed and told him so. She murmured the inviting, seductive words close to his ear just before she nibbled on the lobe.

It was the encouragement he needed. He slammed inside her, grunting with every impalement of her slick, hot core. She tightened her legs about his hips, and he pushed upward, rubbing against her in the most exquisite way. His hair-roughened thighs brushed against hers, his sleek, muscular body dampened with sweat. She breathed deeply, the musky scent of his skin overwhelming her senses, and dug her heels into his backside. Shimmering tingles cascaded over her entire body, and she cried out her release, clinging to him.

He erupted soon after, moaning her name as he spilled his hot seed inside her. Closing her eyes, she clasped him close. He shivered and groaned until he slumped over her with an agonized moan. She tangled her fingers in his damp hair and kissed his cheek, thankful she’d shared this moment with him.

Knowing in an instant she never wanted to let him go. Ever.

Chapter Seven

Damien didn’t dare look at her.

Not now, not while standing in the midst of her late husband’s family during their annual Christmas celebration. The earl stood on one side of him and the countess on the other. The earl’s younger brother and his immediate family were still in attendance. The house was overrun with children and adults, chattering and laughing and having a wonderful time.

At least there was no pianoforte playing. Yet.

Theo was in heaven, running about with his younger cousins. Celia stood on the far side of the room with another female cousin, chatting animatedly. Occasionally she cast Damien a warm glance from over her shoulder, a secret smile curving her lush mouth as she stared at him unabashedly.

He had to look away, for seeing her was his undoing. Just a glimpse of that coquettish look, and he wanted to grab her. Haul her over his shoulder and flee the room. Throw her on his bed and tear her clothes off. Take her ferociously until the last drop of his seed filled her body. Until the both of them were completely spent, and they fell asleep together in an exhausted, tangled heap.

Yes, indeed he was demented. Absolutely beyond repair. All because of a woman he loved like no other.

That realization alone made his heart thud to a frightening dead stop. He rubbed his hand against his chest absently, nodding in agreement with whatever the earl just murmured to him. The countess left them and made her way across the room tow

ard Celia.

“I say, Morton, are you unwell? You don’t look so good.” The earl shook his head, making a low tsking noise.

“Er, I’m a bit tired, my lord.” He’d made love to Celia throughout the night. And when she’d slept like the dead he’d lain there watching her, unable to sleep. Too desperate to savor the final moments of sharing his bed with her.

Damnation, he didn’t know what to do. To be with her one more time would only be a sick sort of torture. A reminder that soon it would be over and he would leave.

Never to see Celia again.

“She’s a vision this evening.” Urswick’s comment startled Damien from his thoughts.

“Your wife? She is, indeed, lovely tonight.” The countess was clad in a festive green gown, and her smile could light up the room.

“No, not the countess, son, though I appreciate the compliment.” Urswick chuckled, shaking his head. “I’m speaking of Celia. There’s a special glow about her this evening.”

Indeed there was always a special glow about Celia, but Damien had to concede that the earl was right. She was even more beautiful than usual, wearing a crimson velvet gown that clung to her curves lovingly, the vibrant color complemented her creamy complexion to perfection. A whimsical circle of ivy sat atop her head, around a pile of intricate curls. Her cheeks were rosy, as was the skin on her chest, and her tinkling laugh made his heart tumble over itself.

She was quite simply breathtaking.

“Don’t you agree?” Urswick prompted.

“Undoubtedly.” Damien bobbed his head like a fool.

Urswick cast him a strange look. “You two seem to be getting on quite well as of late.”

Had the earl noticed the lusty glances he sent Celia’s way when he believed no one else was looking? The last thing he wanted was to offend his host, a man he looked up to and considered a father figure. A man he never wanted to disappoint. “We have always been…friends.”

“And nothing more?” Urswick’s brows rose.

“Absolutely not, my lord.” Damien stiffened his shoulders. What did the earl suspect?

Tags: Karen Erickson The Merry Widows Romance
Source: readsnovelonline.net
readsnovelonline.net Copyright 2016 - 2024